The relaxed expression on the Alpha’s face stiffened almost imperceptibly the moment Qiu Sui finished speaking. Meeting those lively eyes beneath him, his nerves instantly went on high alert.
The rhythm of his hands massaging Qiu Sui faltered unconsciously, his heartbeat skipping and accelerating off-beat. But Qiu Sui didn’t notice Shen Zhixiao’s subtle shift and kept smiling, hooking a finger under Shen Zhixiao’s chin.
He was teasing him like he was toying with someone, playfully messing with his boyfriend. Seeing no response, he let out a soft “Mm?” and bumped his head against Shen Zhixiao’s thigh.
Shen Zhixiao calmly reached out to steady Qiu Sui’s restless head, but his mind raced, clearly recalling every forgotten detail.
Until he remembered that camouflage jacket stained with pheromones—his fingertips turned ice-cold and rigid in an instant, as if blood had drained from them.
But he had little time for this daze and panic. Hearing Qiu Sui hum in confusion again, he snapped back and forced a relaxed smile at him.
The curve of Shen Zhixiao’s lips wasn’t as natural as usual. Before Qiu Sui could scrutinize it, Shen Zhixiao cradled his head and kissed him, filling his mouth with the Alpha’s dominant presence in a heartbeat.
His lips and tongue were gently teased, and he squinted in comfort, tilting his chin up to respond to Shen Zhixiao with languid warmth. The earlier topic slipped his mind briefly as he sank into the intimate, lingering wet kiss, his lashes fluttering shut with faint tremors.
Shen Zhixiao felt Qiu Sui’s body heat, his breaths, every subtle change in expression. The man he’d daydreamed about night and day was in his arms, now his lover. They’d face every Susceptible Period together, meet parents, get married…
Everything should have been perfect, yet one casual question from Qiu Sui cracked that envisioned happiness.
Shen Zhixiao’s shoulders tensed rigidly. He clearly realized his past impulsiveness had brought massive trouble—even that heat-of-the-moment decision might have left an invisible hidden danger…
A sense of crisis surged uncontrollably in his heart.
Does Qiu Sui know there’s pheromones on that camouflage jacket?
Will someone tell him during training?
Shen Zhixiao grew irritable at his past actions. He’d thought he wouldn’t regret it, that he had reason—he’d just been too angry. But now, massive panic gripped him.
He cannot lose Qiu Sui. He’s finally won him.
As Shen Zhixiao deepened the kiss, his panicked mind raced for a countermeasure in this brief moment.
Fabricate a fake pheromone scent to tell Qiu Sui.
The idea popped into his chaotic thoughts suddenly.
As long as Qiu Sui doesn’t know his real pheromone scent, there’s no risk of exposure…
But that wouldn’t just mean Qiu Sui never knowing his true lover’s scent—it also meant he could never mark Qiu Sui with his pheromones to claim him publicly again.
He couldn’t let Qiu Sui carry his scent outside anymore. Anyone sensing his pheromones on Qiu Sui could expose him. Even if Qiu Sui brought friends home later, the house itself might become a risk.
His pheromones must stay isolated from Qiu Sui.
No.
Impossible.
This realization made Shen Zhixiao reject the idea irritably. His fingers cradling the back of Qiu Sui’s head trembled faintly, and the kiss grew heavier.
Qiu Sui struggled a bit under the intensity, fingers loosely hooking Shen Zhixiao’s ear, a soft hum escaping his throat.
When the kiss ended, oxygen deprivation left his head spinning. He hadn’t figured out how a simple question turned into this heated makeout.
Shen Zhixiao rubbed his forehead gently against Qiu Sui’s, their noses brushing occasionally. He kissed the corner of Qiu Sui’s lips cherishingly, his voice soft: “I… don’t want you to find out about my pheromones like this.”
Qiu Sui panted heavily, Shen Zhixiao’s voice sounding distant. He smiled warmly and asked softly in confusion: “Why?”
Shen Zhixiao gazed at him with tender affection, eyes hiding unspeakable things. His voice was low, almost a breath, slow: “I want you to sense my pheromone scent directly.”
Qiu Sui parsed the meaning, blinking slowly, asking gently: “Then what do we do? I can’t smell it…”
“You can. We can extract my pheromones and make them into perfume.” Shen Zhixiao spoke lowly, his palm sliding from the back of Qiu Sui’s head to his cheek, thumb caressing the warm skin intimately. A faint panic hid in his breath as he added softly: “But the tech’s not mature yet. It’ll take some time.”
Time to prepare an explanation…
Qiu Sui had never heard of pheromones being made into perfume directly. He wanted to smell Shen Zhixiao’s, but worried about risks: “If it harms the body, forget it. I can buy perfume that matches your scent…”
“No.” Shen Zhixiao buried his face in Qiu Sui’s neck, voice muffled: “That still wouldn’t be the same as my real pheromones.”
Qiu Sui desperately wanted to know Shen Zhixiao’s pheromone scent. Maybe some people at school had smelled it, but as his boyfriend, he couldn’t even detect it, let alone identify it.
The thought depressed him, but Shen Zhixiao tilted his head, kissing his cheek soothingly: “Extracting pheromones doesn’t harm the body much. It just takes time, baby.”
Hearing this, Qiu Sui wavered, murmuring a soft “Oh,” and nudging Shen Zhixiao’s nose with his own: “Will it take long?”
Shen Zhixiao’s lips pressed thin with fear and unease, shaking his head lightly.
“Over half a month, and it’ll be ready.” He met Qiu Sui’s bright eyes, lowering his gaze with a faint smile, feeling inexplicably uneasy: “When you smell the perfume then, you’ll know my pheromone scent. I hope you like it…”
Qiu Sui couldn’t help chuckling, his eyes curving into gentle crescents: “I’ll like it no matter what it smells like.”
“Really?” Shen Zhixiao smiled too, the heaviness in his chest lifting a bit. He pinched Qiu Sui’s cheek teasingly: “Even if it’s cilantro?”
Qiu Sui liked most foods or felt neutral—as long as it’s edible. Only a few repulsed him.
Cilantro was one.
If a dish had too much, he’d skip it entirely. If little, he’d pick it all out to avoid waste before eating.
Catching the tease in Shen Zhixiao’s tone, Qiu Sui bared his teeth and clawed at him playfully, propping up to grab Shen Zhixiao’s neck.
He didn’t use force, just looped his arms around loosely and shook side to side pettishly, messing up Shen Zhixiao’s hair until he grinned broadly. Finally, he let go, settling back on Shen Zhixiao’s lap, mumbling shyly: “If it’s yours… I could barely tolerate it.”
The Alpha’s delighted grin paused. Looking down meekly at Qiu Sui, his first feeling wasn’t joy but a hidden sullenness.
He hung his head, smiling, but the curve of his lips didn’t lift as high as usual.
Qiu Sui was still lost in his own bashfulness, shrinking without looking up.
Eager to smell Shen Zhixiao’s pheromones, Qiu Sui marked the 25th on the calendar once he had the date.
Sea City’s December brought full winter; down jackets were essential.
The bulky long coats turned anyone into a walking tube—two people side by side looked like a pair of sausages.
Even if Qiu Sui wanted style, the freezing temps sapped his will. He bundled up daily, hood up, and headed out.
Still, Shen Zhixiao wasn’t satisfied, grabbing Qiu Sui’s bare neck one day. Two days later, he knitted a scarf for him.
Shen Zhixiao learned from tutorials on the spot—skill mediocre at best. Qiu Sui finally found something he sucked at, laughing at the crooked stitches. The bottom even had their names embroidered in English initials.
Not perfect, but Qiu Sui loved it, wearing it everywhere.
Shen Zhixiao stared long enough to agree it was ugly and ordered a store-bought one. Extra embroidery delayed it, but he finally draped the new one over Qiu Sui’s neck, trying to swap the old.
“Hey.” Qiu Sui protested, clutching the knit scarf: “I’ve only worn this a week.”
Shen Zhixiao pried his hands, showing the new one warmly: “This one looks better on you.”
Qiu Sui inspected it—store quality, flawless stitches, pretty embroidery.
Same color he liked, but he hummed stubbornly: “This one’s not handmade by you…”
Shen Zhixiao paused, then beamed, relenting without forcing the swap. He folded the new scarf into Qiu Sui’s drawer.
Qiu Sui wore the new one sometimes to avoid dust, but favored the handmade one.
Winter classes grew torturous. Campus shuttles crammed daily—no one liked biking in cold, and walking felt endless.
Cold made Qiu Sui oversleep; mornings were a battle. Shen Zhixiao swiped in on time, hauling him from bed.
In high school, he’d forced himself up in winter, but dating Shen Zhixiao bred dependence. Now he waited to be fished out, then sleepily dressed, washed up—entering from the balcony to get face cream smeared on by Shen Zhixiao pinching his neck.
Qiu Sui never used it before, thinking his thin skin tough. Two windy days proved otherwise; he yielded.
By then, the shuttle stop queued up. Eating at the nearby cafeteria meant missing the bus and being late. Luckily, Shen Zhixiao made sandwiches in the breakfast maker.
Qiu Sui slumped bonelessly on Shen Zhixiao’s shoulder, devouring his.
He’d tried once for Shen Zhixiao—overcooked the bread black, bitter and dry. Never again.
![Rebellious Disciple, Don’t Pluck Master’s Fur! [Transmigration]](https://i0.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/06/chu.jpg?resize=151,215 "Rebellious Disciple, Don’t Pluck Master’s Fur! [Transmigration]")
